Hey Hey, He's the Monkey
by DoofusPrime
Summary: After outmaneuvering his teen foes and getting his hands on the Amulet of the Monkey King, Monkey Fist's deepest desires may finally come true.
1. The Object of Desire

**Hey Hey, He's the Monkey**, by DoofusPrime

_Notes - Monkey Fist Appreciation Day? No way! Here's the first chapter of a story focusing on the man of the hour. Er, man of the day I mean. Hope you guys enjoy it!_

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**The Object of Desire**

XX

It was in the way their nimble hands reached effortlessly from branch to branch. The way their tails acted like another limb, fluid and expressive as the rest of their bodies. The way they were so human in their appearance, in their behavior. So intelligent. So confident. More carefree than any human being Monty Fiske had met.

He watched as the monkeys frolicked and cavorted with each other behind the iron bars. Some leaped among the small scattering of leafy trees which cast their shade over the ground inside the cage. Some crowded around the watering hole in the center of their enclosure, taking leisurely drinks or preening each other for insects and dirt. A few of them crowded against the cage bars and chattered insistently at Monty, who stood with his mother and father and the handful of zoo-goers who were gathered around the exhibit with them. They were visiting the _Magical Kingdom Zoo_, one of Monty's favorites - and conveniently close to home, too.

Monkey hands stretched through the iron cage bars. Fists clenched in yearning. Monty had seen some of the monkeys eating a few scraps of food earlier, but apparently the zoo keeper had not given them enough, as the monkeys in front of him looked like they were hoping for a free handout.

"Do we have any bananas left, father?"

Monty looked up at his father as he asked the question. Lord Worthington Fiske looked down at his son with a stern glint in his eye, his mustache twitching in a particularly impatient manner.

"No we do not, Monty. You ate the last one."

Monty sighed as he returned his attention to the monkeys. One of them reached a little farther than the rest, and Monty was about to hold the monkey's hand in sympathy when his father slapped it away. The monkey gave a screech and retreated farther into the cage, away from the bars.

"Heaven knows what those things could transmit to you, Monty! Have some sense, boy."

"Sorry, father."

Lady Esmeralda Fiske rolled her eyes at the interaction between her husband and son, fanning herself with one hand and holding tightly to her purse with another. She looked around the crowd apprehensively and pulled the purse a little closer to her body as she threw a tired glance at the monkey cage.

"Haven't we looked at these disgusting little beasts for long enough? I'd like to visit the powder room in a moment. Not that a place like this can have much in the way of a powder room. I dread to think about what I might find, judging by the appearance of some of the people here."

"I'm sure Monty will be finished in a few moments, dear," said Worthington. "I saw the facilities just a few moments ago, back on that path that went by the reptile house. I'm certain you can find it on your own."

"Oh, very well."

Esmeralda left her husband and son behind as she retraced her steps back down the cobblestone path they had taken to get to the monkey cages. Monty watched her leave for a moment before turning his attention back to the monkeys in front of him. He watched them rapturously, tried to imagine himself joining them in their joyful abandon. These, according to the bronze plaque fastened on top of a wooden column in front of the cage, were a species of Spider Monkey brought to England from Brazil.

Monkey Fist didn't need the plaque to tell him that, of course. He had read many books on monkeys already, and could recognize the ones he had seen at the zoo by sight. He loved monkeys. All primates, really, but he definitely had a preference for the fluidity and grace of monkeys and apes that held stronger arboreal tendencies. Spider Monkeys and Gibbons were a couple of his favorites. There was a certain combination of skill, power, and nimble reflex that appealed to him more than the power found in some larger primates like gorillas.

"I don't understand why you find these so fascinating," said his father.

Monty had no answer. At least he had no answer that would be easy to put into words, and certainly no answer that his father would understand. They did not see eye to eye on his fascination.

"Don't you think they look free?"

"They're in a cage, boy. Are you daft?"

His father's response stung Monty a little, but he let it roll over him as he watched the monkeys. It wasn't really the cage that he was thinking about, but the monkeys themselves. They had no cares or responsibilities. No rules and regulations to follow, no expectations to live up to. They were more restricted in the cage, to be sure. But in the wild they could do whatever they wanted. Go wherever they wanted. Monkeys were limited by their physical size, maybe, by their place in their social group, but if a monkey was strong enough, he could just make the others do what he wanted. If he was at the top...

"You know," said Worthington, interrupting his son's thoughts, "this may be one of the last times we visit this zoo. Perhaps _the_ last time. I'm too busy to take you here, and it was a miracle I convinced your mother to come along this time. I imagine she'd be mortified if anyone we knew saw us here, and I can't say I disagree with her when I see some of the types that frequent this place."

An obese man passed by and gave Worthington a nasty look, apparently having overheard the end of his comment. Worthington glanced at the hairy pudge protruding from under the man's unfortunately-sized shirt and turned his nose up, giving a haughty sniff, before patting his son on the shoulder.

"And you won't have the time to come here very often once you start preparing for university. No time at all, I suspect. You've given us a devil of a time sneaking off to come here in the past, but it's time for you to grow up, Monty. I don't understand this strange fascination with animals you have, but it's time for my son to live up to the Fiske name. Time for you to set your sights on greener pastures, my boy!"

"I don't have a fascination with _all_ animals," Monty replied, a little defensively.

"Never mind that. You need to begin thinking about the future."

"Father, university is still years away."

"You must choose a focus, Monty."

Despite his father's last comment, Monty knew that his focus was already as good as chosen. Sure enough, his father continued his lecture, confirming what Monty already knew.

"You know archaeology has always been a passion for me, and my social contacts would offer you many opportunities in the field. With our family name and influence, you would have no trouble getting into the right circles, but you'd have to work hard. Don't think I'm going to let you coast through life waiting for your inheritance."

Monty sighed. His enjoyment of the monkey exhibit was gradually fading, washed away in the face of another torrent of stifling conversation with his father.

"What about working with animals, or being a zoo keeper?" he asked. "Perhaps there's something to study in university for that?"

"Don't be silly," laughed Worthington. "I've already told you, that is simply not an option. I've tolerated your interested in these things, Monty," - at this, he cast a disdainful glance over the monkeys in front of them - "but working with them? Such a dirty profession. Not a profession suitable for a Fiske, to be sure."

A dirty profession, his father called it. Monty fought back the urge to ask why in the world his father wanted him to be an archaeologist if he had a problem with dirty jobs, but then, he knew that his father wasn't talking about literal dirt. The career itself was really beside the point. Monty knew that his mother and father were all about image, all about living up to the role that their affluent life demanded. And Monty was a part of that image. Today, his father was being unusually generous by taking him to the zoo – probably because he had been pressing Monty harder on his studies and social obligations, which would only be increasing as his schooling went on. His parents were usually very explicit in their plans for Monty. They both had big plans for him. What he thought about it was really quite irrelevant.

"Come on Monty," his father told him, "keep a stiff upper lip. We can't be like those monkeys, now can we? We have obligations, we have to do what's expected. It's part of being an adult, my boy."

Monty tried to affect a stiff upper lip but failed miserably. He watched the lips of the monkeys in the cage hang loosely as they chattered at one another, fighting over a few scraps of fruit that a young child beside him had just passed through the bars. Maybe his father was right. His life would soon be changing. It was time to grow up, time to take up the burden that came with the name of Fiske.

He had enjoyed his visit to the zoo, but now it was time to say goodbye to his friends.

XX

"Onward, my monkey minions!"

Hoots and chatters rent the still night air as Monkey Fist urged his simian allies into the Forbidden City Museum compound. Apparently the museum's curator was completely unaware of that value of what was held within the museum, as Monkey Fist found no guards barring his entrance. He scaled the museum's wall effortlessly, following his horde of minions as they leaped and bounded across the roof until they reached a skylight. Monkey Fist opened a panel in the skylight and leaped down into a room with his companions. Ahead of him, illuminated in a circle of moonlight, was the object of his deepest desires. A glint of light across the polished pendant, a sensual wink, invited Monkey Fist to take what he deserved. This was what he had been waiting for his whole life.

Well, technically he had read about it in some ancient scrolls last week. But in a general sense, he had been waiting for it his whole life. It was an artifact, like many others, that would grant him what he really wanted: power.

"At long last!" he cried out after removing the glass covering from the display case. He picked the amulet lovingly up from its red pillow, admiring it in the dim light of the closed museum. "The Amulet of the Monkey King!"

Monkey Fist found his gloating interrupted by a familiar voice. Two, actually.

"Ahem! Just one little problem!"

"That doesn't belong to you!"

Looking up from his trinket, Monkey Fist glared at the unwelcome arrival of Ron Stoppable and Kim Possible.

"Kim Possible! But how? The stealth of the ninja monkeys is-"

Monkey Fist paused. When he thought about it, was it really that surprising that his teen foes would find him? He wasn't exactly the most social member of the villain community, but even Monkey Fist knew that Kim Possible had foiled many schemes. And Ron Stoppable, of course, was a particular thorn in his side. If he was being honest, Monkey Fist knew that he should have expected an interruption to his evil schemes; it just seemed like it was the way things were done. And now they'd trade a few comments, fight, Monkey Fist would get away, and – he hated to admit – probably be defeated by his teen foes in a second climactic fight at some later point. After which he would be imprisoned until he escaped and embarked in a new scheme.

"Dude, the stealth of your ninja monkeys is what?"

Monkey Fist snarled at Ron's impudent question. "What did you say, boy?"

"You just stopped in the middle of your sentence."

Monkey Fist had no idea what Stoppable was going on about, but he knew he couldn't let his foes thwart him this time. He deserved this amulet. He deserved the untold powers that would be granted to him once he became the Monkey King, to which the ancient texts had vaguely alluded. No impudent teens would stop him. Instead of dawdling about and trading blows, he would put the Amulet of the Monkey King on right now – no waiting! He slipped the amulet's thread around his neck and fastened it, feeling an eerie power course through him almost immediately. Kim and Ron gasped.

"Hey, you didn't even order your monkey minions to attack! No fair!"

Kim nodded in agreement with Ron. "Yeah, that's definitely not supervillain etiquette. I even had a naner joke ready," she said, holding up a banana peel and pouting.

"Too bad! I have no interest in etiquette when the powers of the Monkey King await me!"

Monkey Fist cackled wildly as he felt the surge of energy rising from within. A powerful forced lifted him into the air as a beam of yellow light shot down from on high, pulsing into the amulet on his neck. The green color of the amulet exploded into a blinding halo of light. He could hear simian screeches echoing through the air; some of them came from his monkey minions, who gathered around and leaped in excitement at the sight of their master's transformation. But some of the hoots and screeches were otherworldly. Monkey Fist heard them in his mind, whispering sweet monkey promises of power and glory. He floated back down to the ground, feeling a strange sensation on his neck.

"Nice tattoo," said Ron.

Monkey Fist noticed Stoppable's naked mole rat sitting perched on a shoulder, tittering with glee at his owner's sarcastic comment.

"What tattoo? On my neck?"

Monkey Fist had expected some kind of instantaneous change, perhaps making him invincible, but he had to admit that he didn't feel much different now that the surge of power was dying down. There was definitely something, but it wasn't quite the adrenaline rush he had expected. Maybe the amulet took a while to power up. He should have spent a little more time deciphering those ancient texts, but sometimes Monkey Fist got impatient when it came to his anticipation of power.

"Monkey ninjas, attack!"

Chattering monkeys surged forward as Monkey Fist leaped with them, baring his teeth as he charged towards Kim Possible. Ron Stoppable was running in terror from a pack of his monkey minions, and he wanted to save the boy for later anyway. Kim stopped Monkey Fist's charge with a combination kick and back flip that sent him reeling back. He shook his head, gathering his senses as Kim made her landing and came at him, fists flying. The two of them sparred back and forth across the museum. Monkey grinned as he fought his foe; she seemed to be paying special attention not to break the valuable artifacts, which meant that she was holding back a little.

Monkey Fist pushed forward, putting everything into his attack, but he felt a rising concern. Everything was not as much as he had expected. The surge of power he had experienced as he put on the amulet was incredible, but it had passed in a moment, an ephemeral burst of energy that only left a strange lingering feeling in its place. He didn't feel any stronger at all, really. A little different, perhaps, but not stronger. He found himself gradually being pushed back by Kim as she redoubled her efforts. Her punches and kicks landed as effortlessly as they always did, and Monkey Fist was hard pressed to match her. He snarled in frustration; when was this stupid amulet going to kick in?

"You sure that's an Amulet of the Monkey King?" said Kim as she landed a heavy blow to Monkey Fist's chest, knocking him to the ground. "Seems like the only thing you're getting right now is a royal butt kicking."

Another cheeky jab. Monkey Fist got up and fended off another blow from Kim as he retreated a little, assessing the situation. Ron Stoppable seemed to be overpowering the monkeys that were pouncing at him, mostly by running around so much that they were becoming disoriented. Things were not looking good; Monkey Fist decided the best thing to do might be to retreat to his mansion, at least temporarily, and wait for his powers to increase. He felt disappointed at the anticlimax to putting on the amulet, but then maybe it needed some kind of additional rituals to activate it. Maybe there was something he had missed in the ancient texts.

"You'll soon feel the full extent of my wrath, Kim Possible," he said as he motioned for his monkey ninjas to gather around him in a defensive circle. "And you as well, Ron Stoppable! The next time I meet you shall – uh – the next time, I'll beat you up good!"

Kim and Ron raised their eyebrows as Monkey Fist's rant came to an awkward end. He felt a blush creep over his cheeks; it was a strange slip of the tongue. Not the best choice of words, and it definitely didn't make for a dignified exit. Ah well.

Brushing off his verbal gaffe, Monkey Fist turned and ran until he burst through the door of the museum. His monkey minions whipped their prehensile tails about and knocked a few valuable artifacts from their pedestals, forcing Kim and Ron to slow down and grab them as they made their escape. As an archaeologist – a former archaeologist, anyway – Monkey Fist felt uncomfortable using the tactic, but you had to do what you had to do.

"Next time," he muttered under his breath.

Kim and Ron were in pursuit, but they had no chance against the natural abilities of Monkey Fist and his monkey ninjas. He felt the tattoo on his neck itching strangely as he left the museum and leaped over the grounds on all fours. As soon as he was fully imbued with the unstoppable power promised by the amulet, his teen foes would regret ever having the gall to cross him.

XX

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_Notes - That's it for the first chapter. Reviews appreciated as always. There are two more chapters to go, and this story is pretty much already written so it will not be very long between updates. There is humor in this story, although I admit the title might be a little too wacky for its overall tone - but I couldn't resist a corny Monkees joke. Ah well. _


	2. A Wish Granted

**A Wish Granted**

XX

Professor Akari's jeep sped towards the airport as Kim and Ron held on for dear life.

"Thanks for waiting around for us," said Kim.

"Once again, I am happy to be of service, Kim possible!"

"Wade," she said as she pulled her tech genius helper up on her Kimmunicator, "any idea where Monkey Fist is headed?"

"It looks like he just got on a flight to England," said Wade. "I'm assuming he's on his way back to his mansion. Maybe he needs to activate the amulet or something."

"Does it need to be activated somehow?"

"I don't know, I don't have the best sources. Still looking."

"And how do we deactivate it and nab the thing if he's actually turning into the Monkey King, or whatever the amulet is supposed to turn him into?"

"Don't know that yet either. Working on it."

Not wanting to bother Wade anymore, Kim put away her Kimmunicator as Professor Akari drove like a mad man. They twisted and turned down a winding dirt road on their way to the airport. The Forbidden City Museum was not actually located in Beijing – the name, Kim thought, must be some kind of tourist gimmick. It seemed to her like it was in the middle of nowhere. She wondered why priceless artifacts could never be found in a nice Mediterranean city, or someplace with ample shopping opportunities that she could enjoy once they got the artifact back. It was always in a forest, or deep in a cave somewhere far from civilization. Even when they were in museums they had to be hard to get to. Everything always had to be hard.

"You think Wade meant Monkey Fist is taking a private jet?" asked Ron.

"I don't know. Why does it matter?"

"Well, I was just wondering how he gets from place to place when he steals artifacts and stuff. Or Drakken or Shego, or any of them really. You think they have evil rides like how we get rides from Wade's contacts, or do they just have their own planes and stuff?"

"Shego has that jet," Kim pointed out.

"Yeah, but back when I was stuck in his mansion I remember Monkey Fist telling me he spent his family fortune on his monkey surgery. How can he afford his own jet then?"

"He couldn't have spent all of it on surgery. I mean, he still has the mansion."

"Good point."

"Why so curious?"

"Just making a little small talk, that's all!"

Kim couldn't hold Ron's inquisitive nature against him. It was an interesting question; there was something strange in the thought of Monkey Fist taking a plane with regular passengers, especially if he had his monkey ninjas with him. Would they let monkeys on a plane, or did the monkey ninjas just sneak into the cargo hold? And, for that matter, would Monkey Fist fly coach, or demand first class? She decided it had to be the latter.

Kim was seated in the front passenger seat, and when she heard a crunching sound, she glanced back at Ron and Rufus in the back seat. "Um, Ron?" she said.

"What's up, KP?"

"That's the bag of bug snack food you were eating on the way to the museum."

Rufus took another bite; apparently he had decided that he was a fan of bug snacks. Ron, however, looked down at the bag, apparently having picked it up without thinking, and made a disgusted face as he spat out a mouthful of toasted chili pepper and mountain grasshopper mix.

"_Agh!_" he screamed. "Not again!"

XX

Over an expanse of desolate moorland, up the slope of a hillside, an imposing building stood watch over the English countryside surrounding it. The building looked like the offspring of a mansion and a castle, raised in cruelty and neglect, as it combined traits from both types of buildings into a sort of ominous, twisted whole. The home had been passed down through generations of the Fiske family over many years. Now that his parents were dead, it was in the possession of one Monty Fiske.

As his pastimes turned from archaeology and world exploration to things more sinister in nature, Monkey Fist's home also seemed to change into something more threatening, as if it absorbed his warped personality like a sponge of stone and rock. Monkey Fist looked up at the glaring windows, the imposing towers, as he approached the arched entryway with his monkey ninjas trailing behind.

Home sweet home.

Once inside, he indicated that a couple of his ninjas should watch the entrance. The others followed him as he strode through the halls. Monkey Fist looked down at his arms and legs; they were becoming hairier, and he even felt the beginnings of a tail sprouting from his rear end. Awkward, but a good sign. Maybe the amulet was finally kicking in, and soon he would be imbued with the monkey-like strength and agility he would use to crush his teen foes as soon as they arrived at his home. He would be ready for them.

_Eat your heart out, father!_

Monkey Fist cackled as he thought of how far he had come. Forced to study archaeology, to jump through hoops and do what his parents told him. Always expected to play the part of the perfect son, mingling in high society with people he'd just as soon crush as talk to, carrying on the inanities of his parent's lifestyle. Archaeology had proved to be unexpectedly useful, as Monkey Fist's studies soon showed him a wealth of possibilities in which he could pursue his simian interests without raising his parent's ire.

Worthington and Esmeralda had never approved of his peculiar fascination with monkeys, and once he was buried up to his nose in textbooks, Monkey Fist didn't have much time to visit the zoos anymore. But his fascination had persisted, twisted over time into something more perverse and single-minded. Monty Fiske became the world famous archaeologist, explorer, and expert in all things simian – that last peculiar distinction being tolerated by his parents only because he excelled in life and kept up with the responsibilities that came with the family name.

But once his parents died, once he was assured of inheriting their fortune, Monty Fiske had no more use for their name. And so Monty Fiske became someone else. The noble adventurer, the gentleman of knowledge and civility, the old him – that man had been rotting from the inside for a long time. Something darker had grown instead. Something that clawed its way up from the depths of Monty Fiske's psyche. Something named Monkey Fist.

For all he had accomplished, for all that he was about to become, Monkey Fist almost wished his parents were still alive so he could show them just what he thought of their plans for him. He made his own plans now, and no one could stop him. His parents always said he monkeyed around. If only they could see him now!

"Bates! I've got it!"

Monkey Fist turned a corner and found his servant just as he shouted out. Bates had been pacing in a hallway, apparently, and he dropped the tea cup he had been holding at the sound of his master's shrill voice. Fine china shattered and spilled its hot contents out across the floor. Bates twitched his mustache in irritation at the mess before stooping down as best as his pudgy frame could allow.

"Never mind that, Bates. I've got it!"

"Got what, sir?"

"The Amulet of the Monkey King."

Bates left the broken tea cup on the ground for several of the monkey ninjas to clean up as he righted himself, peering intently at his master. "You do seem to have a much hairier face," he said. "Why, I do believe you're becoming more monkey-like by the minute. I don't see the amulet, however. Is it under your clothing?"

"No, Bates. It transformed into a tattoo on my neck, see?" Monkey Fist felt his increasingly hairy neck, realizing the tattoo was probably obscured. "That's what I came back for. The powers don't seem to be..."

The words stalled in his mouth, and Monkey Fist found himself having trouble concentrating.

"Yes, my lord?"

"The powers. They are not... they aren't getting any gooder, Bates."

"Gooder, milord? Hmm."

"I need to see the ancient texts."

"Very good. They are downstairs where you left them."

Feeling peculiarly irritated, Monkey Fist and his monkey entourage joined Bates as they entered a room lined with books and various pieces of framed simian artwork. A fireplace sat recessed into the center of one wall, opposite from a large window. The fireplace was flanked by candle holders, and Bates grabbed the secret candlestick lever that retracted the fireplace and revealed the doorway to his master's lair. The two of them descended into the lair, Monkey Fist telling a few more of his monkey ninjas to guard the entrance while they went down.

As he made his way down the stairway, Monkey Fist was unable to shake the strange feeling that had been growing steadily ever since he put on the amulet in the Forbidden City Museum. It wasn't that he felt more powerful so much as he was beginning to feel strange urges. Moving on all fours seemed so natural now that Monkey Fist was having a hard time walking on two feet. Several times now, he had fought back the urge to let out a random screech. His mind was becoming more muddled, too. He tried to focus on the great power that would be imbuing him soon, but images of bananas flashed at intervals, making it hard to concentrate. It all had to be a sign of his transformation into the Monkey King, but it wasn't quite what he had expected. Anticipation began changing into apprehension - but maybe the ancient texts would make things clear.

"Where are they, Bates? The scrolls."

"Over there, sir. Right where you left them."

Monkey Fist tried to ignore the strange look that his servant gave him as he made his way over to a sort of pulpit on the far end of the room. He had once fought Ron Stoppable in this room. He still remembered that bittersweet day when, soon after gaining the Mystical Monkey Power, he was forced to share it with that unworthy teen buffoon and his mole rat pet. No matter. He would soon take care of that.

"Let's see here," he muttered to himself. "Ancient prophecy, Monkey King, yes. The Amulet of the Monkey King, when you put it on, transform... no, wait."

Monkey Fist's ramblings were sometimes voiced, sometimes only in his head, as he tried to concentrate on the scrolls. Bates stood dutifully by his side. Monkey Fist began to feel embarrassed as he tried to decipher the archaic language. He was a renowned archaeologist, capable of reading and writing in many languages. Why was this suddenly so challenging? He hadn't paid close enough attention to the texts before leaving to find the amulet, he knew that now, but suddenly he was having trouble making out the words. It was almost like gibberish.

"My lord, is there a problem?"

_Do not bother me, Bates! I am trying to concentrate!_

Monkey Fist thought he spoke the words out loud, but he realized he had only heard them in his head. He looked at Bates, who stared back at him, nonplussed. It took Monkey Fist a moment to realize that instead of telling Bates to leave him alone, he had just opened his mouth and let out a piercing screech.

"I'm sorry, sir?"

Monkey Fist frowned. This did not seem to be right at all. He looked back at the ancient text and tried to read it again, but it was like a foreign language. Well, it was a foreign language, but it was now a foreign language he could not read. Monkey Fist slammed his fist against the table several times and then leaped back, hitting himself in the chest in anger, enjoying the emphatic power of his fist thumping his ridiculously hairy body. His mind felt hazy, loose, like it was being smoothed out into something simpler. He found it hard to concentrate on what was important. It didn't even seem important anymore, really. The more Monkey Fist thought about it, the more he realized that he hadn't eaten in hours. Why did ancient scrolls matter?

All he really wanted was a stupid banana.

XX

Kim and Ron raced down the winding hallways of Monkey Fist's sprawling home, occasionally bursting into one room or another and fighting off a few monkey ninjas. Surprisingly enough, the two teens found themselves challenged more by the sheer size of the place than by the presence of monkey guards. Monkey Fist's simian servants seemed to be scattered about, not doing much of a job of guarding anything. Monkey Fist himself was nowhere to be seen. Kim was beginning to feel exasperated as she nursed a growing suspicion that they were going in circles.

"Where the heck is he?" she said.

"Probably waiting to spring a trap on us," said Ron as he panted, trying to keep up with his friend. "A monkey trap! Maybe he's gonna jump out of a barrel!"

"We must have gone through every room in this castle. You sure you don't remember where that chamber was where you two fought when you were here before, Ron? He must be down there doing something with the amulet."

"I can't remember. Except it was behind a fireplace."

Kim groaned and skidded to a halt.

"Thank you for the useful info, Ron."

"Hey, no prob!"

Kim was trying to be sarcastic as they had already passed what felt like a dozen fireplaces, but Ron didn't pick up on it. She decided to double back, as they had just passed through a room decorated with a number of books and one prominent fireplace. She had even noticed candle holders on the wall that looked suspiciously lever-ish, but hadn't bothered to try them since Ron hadn't said anything about it. The two of them made their way back to the room.

"_Eek!_"

The room had been empty last time they passed through it, but as they returned, several monkey ninjas stared at them while holding bananas in their hands. Something about their sheepish expressions told Kim that they had caught the monkey ninjas taking an unauthorized snack break from guard duty. Which, in turn, told her that they probably had the right trick fireplace. Kim was about to grab one of the candlesticks adjacent to the fireplace when it suddenly let out a low rumble, disappearing into the floor and revealing a black rectangle behind it. Kim looked through the door; a stairway descended into the darkness.

"Come on, Ron. I think he's waiting for us. Don't want to keep him waiting, now do we?"

"We could keep him waiting a little. No hurry here!"

Kim was about to go down when a pudgy man appeared unexpectedly from the shadows, making her jump in surprise. Ron let out a brief shriek of surprise as well. The two of them stepped back as the man walked into the room, another monkey ninja trailing behind him.

"Monkey Fist's butler!" yelled Ron, pointing an accusatory finger.

"That is correct, young man. Bates, at your service."

"We're here for some stolen goods," said Kim. "Where's Monkey Fist?"

The monkey ninja who had been trailing behind Bates screeched and hooted at the sight of Ron. It looked like it was about to attack when Kim took a menacing step forward. Seeing her, the monkey let out another hoot of distress and leaped back a few feet, using Bates as a shield. Bates stood stiffly for a moment before tilting his head in the monkey ninja's direction.

"What?" asked Kim.

Before she had even voiced the question, however, she understood why Bates had tilted his head. On closer inspection, the monkey ninja behind him did not look quite like the others. Its outfit was different, and it was larger in size. Not only that, but it was behaving strangely towards her and Ron, as if it was familiar with the two of them. There was only one explanation.

Monkey Fist had turned into an actual monkey.

"Monkey Fist turned into an actual monkey? So sick and wrong!"

Ron clapped his hands to his head in shock. Kim was caught off guard, but when she thought about it, she didn't know why. Monkey Fist was stealing something called an Amulet of the Monkey King, after all. His single-minded obsession as a villain seemed to be gaining monkey powers, modifying himself through surgery to look more monkey-like, and presumably embracing monkeydom in all its hairy glory. Being a monkey, logically, was the last step in that process. She began to wonder if this was what Monkey Fist wanted all along.

"Can he understand us?" she asked Bates.

"I do not know, to be quite truthful. He only finished the transformation a few moments ago. He does not seem to be acting exactly like a regular monkey, but I do not see much of Lord Monty Fiske in this creature, either."

Kim watched as the monkey formerly known as Monkey Fist snarled at her before turning to one of his monkey ninjas and grabbing the banana out of its hand, biting ravenously into it. From the looks of it, Monkey Fist hadn't eaten in a while. "How'd this happen?" she asked. "I mean, why did he come back here? I kind of thought he was going to do something to activate the amulet."

"I must admit," said Bates, "my master can be a bit rash sometimes when it comes to magical artifacts and the promise of arcane power. I don't think he paid close enough attention to the ancient scrolls, though I myself cannot read them. I doubt this was what he had in mind when he was ranting about transforming into the Monkey King."

Something about the tone of Bates' voice seemed odd to Kim. He was taking the whole thing in a very nonchalant manner; she wondered if maybe he wasn't so broken up about his master's transformation. Even the monkey ninjas seemed to be fairly indifferent towards her and Ron, lounging about and looking at their former leader with idle interest. Several more of them had entered the room, but they didn't seem to be gathering to attack.

"Um, I'll be honest," said Kim, "I have no idea what to do about this."

She pulled the Kimmunicator out of her pocket and called up the third member of Team Possible to see if he had any ideas. "Hey Wade," she said, "we're at Monkey Fist's manor, and well – he's a monkey."

"Really?"

"Totally. Check it out," said Kim, pointing the Kimmunicator's viewing screen at Monkey Fist.

"Whoa, that's crazy."

"So I guess you didn't know this was going to happen?"

"No, not really. I mean, it's kind of funny when you think about it. Poetic justice, right?"

Ron bristled, taking offense to the comment. "Being a monkey is poetic justice? I wouldn't even wish a fate like that on Monkey Fist, and he was halfway there already!"

"Okay, okay."

"His butler says Monkey Fist has some ancient scrolls relating to the amulet. Want me to scan them in, Wade?"

"Yeah, I'll have them checked out."

Bates, who had been listening to their conversation, led them down into the chamber below the trick fireplace as Monkey Fist followed them, occasionally hissing at Ron but otherwise avoiding Kim. Judging by his behavior, Kim was definitely starting to get the feeling that Bates' loyalty to his master was not as strong as Monkey Fist may have hoped. He seemed to be perfectly willing to help them out.

"Right over there," said Bates as he pointed them in the direction of a podium on which some dusty scrolls rested. Kim scanned the scrolls with the Kimmunicator as Ron looked around the room with a shiver. She felt a flash of sympathy for her friend; she knew he wasn't fond of monkeys, and the room had to bring back some unpleasant memories.

"I'm going to need to get these translated," said Wade. "The language is pretty archaic, so this may take a while."

"Gotcha. What do we do with Monkey Fist in the meantime?"

"One of you could hold onto him until we can transform him back and get him to the police," suggested Wade.

Ron shook his head emphatically. "I'm not having a monkey in my house."

"Uh, to be honest Wade, I'm not hot on that idea either."

"Well, I need to look into how I can reverse the effects of the spell on Monkey Fist. Scan in a sample of his hair, will you?"

Monkey Fist had been leaping and cavorting around the room as they talked, but he stopped abruptly as Kim cast a wary eye on him. Something in her expression must have told him she was up to no good because he backed away rapidly. Kim was getting ready for a wrestling match with her former foe when Bates made the whole process simpler by pulling a clump of hair from Monkey Fist while he wasn't looking. He handed it over with a polite nod.

"Well thank you, Bates."

"You're very welcome, young lady."

Kim placed the hairs on a scanning dish that ejected from the top of the Kimmunicator, and Wade mulled over the results. As she waited, Km's brow furrowed in thought as she watched Monkey Fist gingerly nursing the spot where his hair had been pulled. This whole situation was giving her a headache.

"You know," she said, "should we even change him back? I mean, he's not a threat if he stays a monkey. And then nobody else could steal the Amulet of the Monkey King."

Wade looked up from his study. Kim could tell the he hadn't thought of the possibly any more than she had; they had both assumed that they had to change him back, but it wasn't the only option. The alternative just struck her as a bit morally questionable.

"That's true," agreed Wade. "It would make things easier for us. Is that wrong, though?"

"It could be what he wanted," said Kim. "He did love monkeys. What do you think, Bates?"

Kim didn't really know why she was asking Bates, as there was no particular reason she could trust his answer. He had served at Monkey Fist's butler for lord knew how long, which should have implied that he had some kind of loyalty to his master. Giving any weight to his opinion could be a mistake. And yet, even in the short time she had seen him, he didn't seem that evil. Maybe he could offer some kind of insight.

"I believe what my master wanted was very complicated," said Bates. "And I doubt he could ever truly get what he wanted. In a way, being in this form might be peaceful to him. He does seem more carefree than he used to be."

Kim watched as Monkey Fist scratched his rear end. Carefree was one way to put it.

"I must tell you that I am under contract to serve my master indefinitely. I served his mother and father, and once they died, I became Monty Fiske's servant as well. It is my duty to take care of this home and fulfill the needs of my master, and in the event of his incapacitation, I assume control of all his affairs and look after him."

Ron scratched his head quizzically. "Is he actually incapacitated?"

"I'm not sure what else you'd call it," said Bates.

"I'd call it bein' a monkey, dude."

"Duly noted."

"Either way," said Kim, "Monkey Fist is a criminal, Bates. He stole the Amulet of the Monkey King. What are we supposed to do about that, huh?"

"What can you do?" asked Bates. "I don't see the amulet anywhere, do you? I don't believe you can take my master out of his own home, whether he's a monkey or not. That sounds very much like kidnapping, does it not?"

Kim regarded Bates suspiciously. Maybe he wasn't quite as friendly as she had expected. She couldn't figure out what to make of him, but the three of them seemed to be at an impasse. Then again, Monkey Fist wasn't going to do much in his present form, and she still needed to figure out what exactly they wanted to do with him. Until then, maybe it was safe enough to leave him. As long as Bates didn't have anything to work with, Kim thought. She couldn't be sure just how many ancient languages he knew.

"I'll be taking these," she said, gathering the old scrolls pertaining to the Amulet of the Monkey King. "Don't want you trying any reversal spells and setting your boss free while we aren't around."

"Stealing property, are we?"

"Wade and I may not know exactly where you got these from, but I'm guessing it's not your property."

"It belongs in a museum!" shouted Ron.

Kim and Bates stared at him, a little surprised by his outburst.

"Totally," said Kim. "What he said. You gonna stop me?"

Bates gave her a charming smile.

"I suppose not."

"If we leave, what are you going to do with Monkey Fist in the meantime?"

"Look after him. You needn't worry, I have no tricks up my sleeve."

Kim glanced at Ron and gave him a shrug. She didn't know what else to do.

"Alright, we'll leave. But we'll be keeping an eye on you, and coming back once we figure out how to reverse the transformation. If we decide to do that, anyway. Whatever."

Kim motioned for Ron to join her as the two of them went back up the stairs and emerged on the ground floor of Monkey Fist's mansion again. She didn't like such an ambiguous ending to one of her missions, but when ones foe turned into an actual monkey, dealing with the situation was a little tricky. Maybe she and Ron would stick around in England for a while until Wade got back to them with some more information. He usually didn't take long.

In the meantime, she could do a little shopping, and Ron would no doubt want to see if Bueno Nachos were any different over the pond. If they even existed here. Kim wasn't sure. Wade would keep an eye on Bates and Monkey Fist's home, and hopefully they could figure out just what to do with their furry foe.

XX

Bates sighed as he walked into the study room. Another mess to clean up.

His master had taken a liking to the room over the last week or so, even though he had no use for ancient maps and tomes anymore. Lord Fiske's days of studying the subtleties of simian species had slipped away forever, replaced by banana eating and hanging recklessly from chandeliers. Most of the chandeliers in the castle were broken by now, as Lord Fiske – ironically enough – did not seem to be as well trained or well behaved as his former monkey ninja subordinates. Not only that, but he didn't hang around them much. They seemed to sense he was different, and he didn't get along with them well. Bates wondered if it was because all the training he had given them ended up separating them from regular monkeys, which Lord Fiske had now become. He spent most of his time alone, often in the study room, sometimes flinging feces when he was in a bad mood.

Bates looked at the wall and wrinkled his nose. Clearly, Lord Fiske was in a very bad mood.

"Come here, milord" he said.

Lord Fiske was perched on a desk chair that had once been seated next to an old mahogany writing desk, at least before the chair was dragged wildly around the room. He swiveled in it for a few moments, ignoring his former servant. Although Bates had once been Lord Fiske's servant, he now felt like his master. Or maybe some kind of humiliating monkey babysitter of sorts.

"Milord, we're going on a trip to get some bananas."

This announcement perked his master's ears up. The chair swiveling stopped immediately, and Lord Fiske loped quickly over to stand by his servant. That had gotten his attention. Bates beckoned for his master to follow him, and the two of them made their way out of the castle and into the courtyard out front. He would deal with the mess in the study room later; right now, he had an appointment.

A limousine waited outside for the two of them, and Bates got into the back with his monkey master as the driver made his way out of the castle grounds. Bates watched his master explore the spacious interior of the limousine as it drove down a winding path through the moorland. The nearest town was not far, and Bates had told the driver where to go. Getting Lord Fiske to join him had been surprisingly easy, and he seemed to be fascinated by the mini-bar inside the limousine, at least for now.

Bates couldn't help but marvel at the change his master had undergone. He reminded himself that it wasn't the first time Monty Fiske had changed. He remembered being hired by the Fiske family, long ago. Worthington and Esmeralda Fiske had been strict, severe masters, although they generally wanted Bates to stay out of sight on the many occasions that they entertained guests, unless he was absolutely needed. He held no love for either of them - but then, they were not family. As long as he had served them, they were his employers, and Bates had a sense of duty that ran deep. He had served all his life. It was what he knew.

Monty Fiske had been different. At first. Bates had taken a liking to the young man, sympathizing with the way his parents treated him. Monty had held a fascination with primates – monkeys in particular – ever since Bates had known him. While he did not understand it, he had watched as Monty was jerked like a puppet through the motions of life, his parents holding the strings. They were not violent, not cruel, but they had a way of stifling him, of making sure he always did what they wanted.

Bates had continued to serve the Fiske family as Monty passed through his education with flying colors, working towards becoming an archaeologist. Monty had shared his love of monkeys with Bates on many occasions, in secret, where his parents would not react badly to his increasing obsession. There had been a noticeable change in his personality when Monty returned from college, and with his ascension into the upper echelons of the archaeological world, fame seemed to bring an increasing madness with it. Bates, being Monty's confidante, was privy to the kind of bizarre archaeological discovers and hidden histories in which Monty was truly interested.

Ancient artifacts. Arcane magics. Ruined temples. Legends and myths, tales of lost power, always tied into Monty's all-consuming simian obsession. Bates had been surprised to learn that there was enough magic out there to include subcategories like 'monkey magic.' He wondered if there were other people out there obsessed with newt magic, or maybe albatross magic. What made monkeys so special, after all?

Bates noticed the partition between the driver's seat and the back of the car begin to descend.

"Could you keep that monkey from trashing my limo?" asked the driver.

"We'll be sure to pay for any damages," answered Bates.

The driver grumbled and pressed a button, sending the partition back up.

Lord Fiske had gotten his paws on a champagne bottle but was having trouble removing the top; Bates took it from his hand and put it back into the mini-bar, locking the little glass door so his master couldn't get to it. Despite all the things Lord Fiske had told him about monkeys over the years, Bates wasn't sure about monkey alcohol tolerance, and he didn't want his master to get hurt. And seeing as his master was taking one last ride in style, coming out of the limousine drunk would not be very appropriate.

Bates wondered why he felt a sense of loyalty to his master, even now. Lord Fiske had been cruel to him after his descent into what Bates believed was madness. Some might call it passion, and certainly politicians or corporate leaders were no different in their single-minded pursuit of power, but having one's hands and feet surgically altered to be more monkey-like was a bit excessive. Lord Fiske's cruelty and hatred had increased after his parent's death, and after his quest for monkey power drove away the few acquaintances who tolerate him, Monty no longer had an obligation to maintain the lifestyle his parents demanded. Bates had stayed with him, but affection was replaced by duty. By a stoic resignation to bear whatever his master threw at him. Sometimes literally.

Now he was in charge, and his master was helpless. And yet Bates still felt a sense of duty, even sympathy towards Lord Fiske. Or Monkey Fist, as he called himself. A twisted man who had once been Lord Fiske, who in turn had once been the young Monty that Bates knew. Bates could probably get away with doing almost anything to his master now, but he did have a contract with the man. To serve him faithfully. Bates intended to do that. Fortunately, there wasn't a lot of detail on what it meant to serve. And based on the last week, Bates would be hard pressed to serve his master in his mansion.

"We're here," said the driver.

Bates peered out the window. While he had lost himself in reminiscing, the limousine had arrived at the nearby town, traveling into its heart until it reached a set of iron gates. Over the gates, a sign perched precariously:

_Magical Kingdom Zoo._

The limousine drove down a cobblestone road, passing a few animal exhibits before turning a corner as it made its way into a section of the zoo designated for employees only. It came to a stop near a concrete utility building adjacent to one of the animal cages. Bates got out, motioning for Lord Fiske to follow him. Kim and Ron were waiting by the concrete building alongside several zoo workers. As he left the car, Lord Fiske's visage seemed to brighten at the sight of a familiar setting. He seemed to recognize it from his past. Bates was glad to see him looking at least somewhat happy.

"How's he been?" asked Kim.

"Quite difficult, to say the least. I suppose your technical friend has given up?"

Kim nodded, a little apologetically.

"The ancient texts spoke of a way to reverse the spell and retrieve the amulet, according to the translators Wade was talking to, but it involves torture and likely death, and apparently it has a time limit which passed days ago anyway. Supposedly it's irreversible now. Wade doesn't have any other ideas after he tried that DNA reverser ray a few days ago with the Kimmunicator. I don't really understand how that was supposed to work anyway."

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "Science and magic don't mix!"

Bates nodded gravely as he looked down at his monkey master. Lord Fiske looked back up at him and bared his teeth, but not in anger. As far as he could tell, it was a monkey smile.

"I suppose this is it, then."

"I guess so," said Kim. "I thought it was appropriate for us to come over and see it through. And to make sure you were telling the truth about wanting to go through with this."

"I believe it will be best for him," said Bates. "He used to love this zoo, although his parents got tired of his constant visits. Perhaps he will feel at home here."

Ron wiped a tear away.

"Whoa," said Kim, "Ron - are you crying?"

"No!"

"I'm just kind of wigged out you're actually feeling sympathy for Monkey Fist."

"He was evil, but nobody deserves to get turned into a monkey."

The two teens fell silent as Bates stood with his master for a moment, wondering if they needed to say some kind of last words. But then, Monkey Fist wasn't dead. Not exactly. And hopefully he would feel more at home in a zoo than he would in the middle of a mansion; at least here they had monkeys who weren't trained as ninjas, and all the bananas he would ever want. It wasn't such a bad fate, really, and Bates still wasn't quite sure if becoming a monkey wasn't Lord Fiske's dream all along.

"In there," he said as a couple of zoo workers opened the door to the monkey cages. "That's where the bananas are. Go on!"

Lord Fiske followed the direction his finger was pointing and leaped eagerly through the door. He seemed to pick up on enough language to understand when someone said something that interested him, and 'banana' was always a word guaranteed to get his attention. Bates watched as the zoo workers closed the cage door, locking it while Lord Fiske moved around the enclosure for a few moments. The other monkeys looked at him strangely and backed up a little. It was not long before Lord Fiske returned to edge of the monkey cage. He looked out at Bates, his furry paws clamping on the iron bars.

His eyes seemed to ask a question: why he was in a cage, maybe. Why Bates was outside of the cage. What was going to happen to him.

"Goodbye, Monty."

As Bates waved, a tear began to glisten in his own eye. He gave a little sniff, his mustache twitching, as he realized that Monty was gone forever. A relatively innocent young man had, over time, become warped and twisted beyond recognition, only to be warped and twisted again into the very creature that drove his obsessions. It was the circle of life. His master's life, at least.

Bates felt Kim Possible place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He spent a few more moments in the company of his old master while the zoo coworkers reassured him that his monkey would be taken care of. He returned to his limousine, on his way back to the Fiske family mansion. As the limousine pulled away from the monkey cage, he caught one last glimpse of a monkey, still standing behind the cage bars.

The monkey watched Bates until he was out of sight.

XX

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_Notes - one chapter remaining. Chapter 3 will be smaller than this one (and the first chapter for that matter), although, in my opinion, it's also one the more unusual chapters I've written. For some reason this story ended up with chapter sizes that varied more wildly than they usually do, but I divided it up in terms of what seemed best to me. Hope you guys liked this chapter_!


	3. Out of Place

**Out of Place**

XX

He watches while the other monkeys run and leap and play. He does not join them, because he does not fit in. They know each other, know how they sound and how they act, what to expect from each other, and he knows he is strange to them. Today the sky is blue and the little trees inside the cage are bright and leafy. There is food and water. He has what he needs, but there is still something wrong inside. The cage is small. He has been there a long time. It is hard to count how long, even though he knows he used to be able to do that better. The other monkeys seem like they are in a good mood, but he stays away. He stays by himself most days.

The humans outside the cage look inside all the time. Their skin is soft and pink and hairless. Sometimes they put pieces of food inside the cage and laugh when the monkeys grab the food. Sometimes the little ones stick their little pink hands through the bars with pieces of food on top of their open hands, and the parents make angry noises and pull the hands back. They say the monkeys are dangerous. It is hard to remember, but he knows that he used to be like the humans until he changed. He looks like the other monkeys in the cage now, but he does not feel like them.

He is something in between.

"Look at that one, mother! Is it the daddy monkey?"

"What do I look like? Some kind of monkey expert?"

He hears the humans talk to each other. Sometimes he knows a word, sometimes a few words, and even when he does not know all the words he can sometimes tell what they mean by the way they move and sound. It is still very hard to understand them. Their words bother him, like maybe if he thought really hard they would make sense. But every time he tries to think hard, nothing happens. The humans are happy to see the monkeys. He wonders why they are so happy, and inside his head there are thoughts and pictures from a long time ago. He remembers when he was like the humans, and he was outside of the cage looking in at the monkeys and smiling. Why did he like the monkeys so much?

It was a long time ago, and it is very confusing to him.

"Look at the stupid face that one's making!"

One of the humans points and laughs. There are some other humans standing next to him and they also laugh. They are bigger than the children, but smaller than the adults.

"He looks like he's constipated or something. How come he's not with the other ones?"

"Probably a bit queer, I'd bet. Just like you, Max!"

He watches as some of the humans laugh at the one they call Max. The one called Max looks down and a red color comes on his face. They get bored of looking in the cage and they walk away to other cages. He watches them go. He cannot join them. This is his cage, and he wonders if he will ever be outside of it again.

It is hot. He goes to the pool of water to get a drink of water because he is thirsty. The other monkeys around the pool go away when they see him, because he bothers them. They do not have to go away long. He takes his drink and goes back to his corner by his favorite tree in the shade. He waits quietly. There is nothing to do. He tries to think about things. He tries to hold things in his mind, but they fly away like the birds in the air before he can make sense of them. He remembers he used to think about a lot more a long time ago, when he was different. He gives up thinking. All he wants now is a banana.

"Oi! I got your grub right 'ere!"

A man opens a door in the building that is right next to the cage. He holds a bucket in his hand that is filled with bananas. The man comes into the cage every day and gives the monkeys food. Even though he is bigger than the other monkeys, he waits because the man does not like him very much. He does not like the man very much either. Today the man throws a banana at him so he does not have to come over, and he picks the banana from the ground and opens its skin to eat the inside. Taking the skin from the banana is the happiest part of his day.

"That's the one," says the man to a lady who is next to him. "We call 'im Fisky."

He does not know the lady. She is new. He does know the name that the man calls him. He knows that it is his name, just like how the humans outside the cage earlier called the other human Matt. Or Max. Or Mandy. He is starting to have trouble remembering the name they called the human with the red color on his face. He does not care. His own name reminds him of how he used to be human, and he feels like he has lost something, but he does not know what. He has the banana, and that is enough for now.

"You sure?"

He does not know what the man with the banana bucket and the woman mean when they talk to each other, but he can tell they are talking about him. They look at him a lot, just like the humans outside the cage. Sometimes he feels like he is wrong, because the humans and the other monkeys look at him all the time. The other monkeys are like him, they are in the cage so the humans can look at them, but that does not make them like him anymore. He is still not like them.

He remembers two hairless pink humans from a long time ago. His parents. A sad feeling is in him now, and he does not understand why. He thinks his parents are laughing at him. He can almost hear them. He remembers they did not like the monkeys in the cages, and if they saw him in the cage looking like the other monkeys they would say something to him about it. For a moment, his father's face comes in his mind and talks to him, telling him he is bad for looking at the monkeys.

But they are not here. They are only in the pictures in his head.

"I said come over this way, Fisky!"

The man with the bucket is shaking his hand at him, and the woman is still standing next to him in the open door on the building. The other monkeys look at him and then look at the two humans. He decides to come closer and see why the man wants him to come, because the man does not like him most days. The woman is bigger than the man, and she has black hair, darker than his fur. She laughs when he comes close and looks very happy. It is different than when the humans outside the cage are happy. He is closer now, and he starts to wonder if he does know the woman after all.

"Oooh, it's you, my little munkey-wunkey! It took forever to track you down, but Amy's here for you now!"

The woman picks him up, and for a second he wonders if he should bite her or scratch her because he is not used to humans picking him up. He remembers her now. She is a human he has seen before, when he was different. But right now, when she holds him and rocks him in her arms, it is warm and soft. She takes him out of the cage and into the building next to the cage, and the man shuts the door behind them. Outside the building there is a car. He remembers that humans use them instead of their arms and legs to move around most of the time. She opens a door in the car and puts him inside and puts something over his body to hold him down.

"I don't think I'll be able to change you back, Monty," she says when she gets in the other side of the car. "I've looked and looked and I think it's permanent. Something about that pesky monkey power just makes it impossible to reverse the spell, and I'm no magician, Monty. Amy's all about science! But this isn't so bad, is it? You're like a real live Cuddle Buddy! And you won't try to run away anymore – now we can be together forever!"

He does not know what she means. Some of her words make sense but when they are put together it is too hard to understand. But she is happy, and he liked it when she held her, and she is taking him away from the cage. That is good. He was in the cage for a long time and started to hate when the humans and the other monkeys looked at him all the time. He is not a human and not a monkey, and he is not like her. But when she looks at him, it is not like the way the others look at him.

When he looks at her and she smiles, it is almost as good as eating a banana.

XX

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_Notes - That's the end of the story. Hope you guys liked it. I'm interested in knowing what you guys thought of this last chapter, since it's fairly different than my usual style. _

_I wanted to try to convey what it might be like from Monkey Fist's monkeyfied perspective. I thought writing in third person present tense might make it seem like he's more "in the moment", and I avoided using his name to sort of dilute his past identity and emphasize how he's different now, and tried to use a different sentence structure that was sort of more matter-of-fact and repetitive. I like how it turned out, but maybe that's just my ego talking and it's actually awful, so second opinions are welcome, hehe. :-p And I was a little undecided on having Amy pop up at the end, but I felt like leaving Monkey Fist in his cage like that was just too sad for my tastes.  
_

_I'm working on a new story that will be fairly long, centered on Drakken and his immediate family, although Kim and Ron will be secondary characters. I might start posting that next, although I don't know when. Possibly Monday if I can get some more done over the weekend._


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